


Truth or Dare: Drarry Style

by SiriusBlackBae



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: 8th year, Cute, Drabbles, Drarry, Drinking Games, Fluff, M/M, Pansmione - Freeform, Truth or Dare, f/f - Freeform, m/m - Freeform
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-05-21
Updated: 2018-05-21
Packaged: 2019-05-09 15:53:05
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,343
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14719097
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/SiriusBlackBae/pseuds/SiriusBlackBae
Summary: Drarry drabble. 8th year. When the game of Truth or Dare started, few expected it to get as wild as it did. Certainly, none saw any of it coming.





	Truth or Dare: Drarry Style

**Author's Note:**

> This is a short Drabble. No beta. Enjoy!

“How about a game of Truth or Dare?” It was Hermione who suggested this horrible idea, and Harry groaned in protest. It was something the Gryffindors used to always do in the common room after the younger years had gone to bed, and they always ended up getting rancy and embarrassing. So it would not be a good idea to play in a room with Slytherins and Gryffindors together.

“Scared, Potter?” Draco Malfoy asked. The blonde, while more subdued than he was before the war, never failed at getting on his nerves.

“Yes,” Harry said honestly, and all the Gryffindors snickered.

“Come on, Harry! It’ll be fun!” Hermione begged, but Harry vehemently shook his head.

“No. No, you remember what happened last time?” Harry asked, and only realized his mistake moments after he spoke the words.

“Oh, Potter? Tell us, what did happen last time?” Draco asked, eagerly awaiting his reply. Harry only groaned again, and the Gryffindors all laughed, knowing exactly why Harry was so reluctant to play.

“Nothing, Malfoy. It was nothing at all,” Harry denied, even though everyone knew he was lying.

“So you have no problem playing this Truth or Dare?” Draco countered easily, a confident smirk on his lips.

“Ergh! That’s not what I’m saying, I just-” Harry began, but Draco cut him off.

“You do? By all means, Potter, tell the group. What happened last time you played?” Draco’s smirk turned into a shark’s grin, knowing that he’d caught his prey. Harry glared at the cocky blonde for a good few moments, before he finally caved.

“...Fine. We’ll play the game,” Harry acquiesced, and roaring cheers exploded in the common room, making Harry glad they’d put up silencing charms earlier. He waited another few seconds, then shouted to be heard over the cheers, “BUT! But, we have to do the oath beforehand.” The rest of the houses looked confused, but the Gryffindors all nodded as if they had been expecting it.

“What oath?” Pansy Parkinson asked.

“It’s an oath that makes you tell the truth for the duration of the game. Also, these games always get… invasive and embarrassing, so Hermione came up with this oath that makes it so you physically can’t speak about what happens while playing the game with anyone not apart of the game unless it is you that you’re talking about,” Dean Thomas explained.

“First rule of Fight Club is: you do not talk about Fight Club,” Terry Smith said, and about half of those in the 8th year common room laughed. Most of the purebloods and those that didn’t read much didn’t laugh, so it was a surprise to most of them that Draco barked out a short, sharp laugh in response to the reference. 

“You read Fight Club, Malfoy?” Harry asked incredulously. It was a muggle book after all.

“You read Fight Club, Potter? I do read,” Draco echoed, sneering.

“Yeah, I did,” Harry replied. But he didn’t explain further, regardless of the plentiful questioning looks being sent his way. After all, how was he to explain that he had read it during the summer to escape the monotonousness of life with the Dursleys. How was he to explain that he hadn’t finished it because Vernon had found it and ripped the book to pieces, uncaring that it was a library copy. 

“So how do we do it?” Tracy Davis asked, bringing the conversation back to the game.

“Well, I have it written here on this paper, and you are just going to read it aloud and supplement your name when it says y/n,” Hermione explained, bringing out the tea-stained parchment that she always carried to these gatherings, just in case.

“I’ll start,” Neville said, and spoke the oath, not even needing the parchment anymore. 

“Okay, I’ll go next,” Seamus offered, as he was the one sitting to Neville’s left. And around the big circle it went, until the last person, Luna Lovegood, had gone.

“Let’s start!” Hermione exclaimed, bringing out an empty bottle of firewhiskey, “So here are the rules: you each will have three drops of Veritasium now, and then the first person will spin the bottle whoever it lands on will be asked truth or dare. If they choose truth, the spinner will ask them a question that they then have to answer. If they choose dare, the spinner will dare them to do something, that they have to do. There are no take-backs, so once you choose something, you have to do it. And finally, if you don’t want the truth or dare that was given to you, you can choose to have the entire group choose a dare for you to do.”

“So, who wants to go first,” Padma asked, and there was a moment of silence before Neville spoke up. 

“Sure, I’ll go,” Neville agreed, and those in the other houses looked surprised. It was no wonder; Neville was always really shy in everything except herbology. That is, until about the third round of playing Truth or Dare, at which point the Gryffindors began to see Neville loosen up and realize that no one would judge him here.

Neville spun the bottle, and it went round and round and round, everyone’s eyes fixed upon the bottle in the center of the circle. The glass turned into a blur of brown, before slowing to a stop in front of Hannah Abbott.

“Why am I always first?” Hannah complained, falling into Mandy Brocklehurst’s shoulder.

“Truth or dare, Hannah?” Neville asked after the laughter died down. 

“Truth,” Hannah answered reluctantly, a blush finding its way up her neck. 

“Hmm,” Neville pretended to ponder, stroking his chin, “what is the strangest place you’ve had sex.” Harry watched in amusement as the words registered in all non-Gryffindor minds, and they realized exactly what kind of game this would be. Most pure bloods and wizard-raised looked scandalized, and Harry found their shocked expressions hilarious. 

“Um, er,” Hannah was bright red at this point, and was clutching Mandy’s sleeve jacket like it would safe her life, “the er, quidditch pitch.” As soon as the words were out of her mouth, pandemonium ensued. Hannah hid her face in Mandy’s shoulder, while most of those playing exploded in shock and disbelief, with many “ooh”s echoing around the common room. 

“Guys, guys,” Hermione piped up, quieting the crowd, “let’s keep playing, shall we? It’s Hannah’s turn to spin the bottle.” Dutifully, Hannah crawled to the bottle and spun it, as the party-goers all waited with baited breath for the next victim. It was Tracy Davis, the Slytherin. 

“Uh, truth or dare Tracy?” Hannah asked, and it was almost before she finished that Tracy replied. 

“Dare!” Her excited voice elicited a laugh from her best friend, Daphne Greengrass. It was the first time anyone except the Slytherins had seen her laugh. 

“Alright, well, I dare you to…” Hannah thought about it for a second, before Mandy whispered in her ear, and a wicked grin spread across her previously innocent face. 

“I dare you to kiss the hottest person in the room,” she said, and everyone turned eagerly towards Tracy to await her decision. Tracy, though, was having some sort of eye-conversation with Daphne. It wasn’t until the tension in the air felt like it could be cut with a knife that Tracy sighed in defeat. 

“Fine,” she said aloud, then turned and walked across the circle towards Millicent Bulstrode, and confidently grabbed her by the back of the head and planted their lips together. There was a heavy moment of silence wherein everyone was asking themselves, was this really happening? Then it was over, and Tracy was gliding back across the circle.

“I did not see that one coming,” Terry Boot said, and that broke the tension in the room. Suddenly everyone was talking over one another about the bombshell that was just dropped. For a good minute, there was excited talking all over the place, with only Greengrass not surprised. Millicent was just sitting there, staring off into space with a dopey grin on her face. 

“Okay, okay. I get that you guys are shocked, but lets keep our decorum, shall we?” Tracy spoke up. Harry, who had been gossiping with Hermione and Ron, looked towards Davis as she spun the bottle. It quickly landed on Luna, who met the challenge with an airy grin on her face.

“Truth,” she said, before Tracy could even ask the question.

“Alright, then. What was the most firewhiskey you’ve had in one night?” Tracy asked, obviously expecting the amount to be small.

“Oh, about… three bottles,” Luna answered, her smile turning wicked, “That was the night I beat all of the Gryffindors at Cards Against Humanity.” No one but the Gryffindors were expecting that answer- they all knew what kind of game Cards Against Humanity was. Quickly, though, Luna spun the bottle. It went around and around for what seemed like forever, before landing on Draco Malfoy.

“Ooh!” Luna giggled excitedly, and all of the Gryffindors winced in sympathy for the hell Draco was about to go through. They all knew how brutal Luna could get during these games.

“Er… Dare,” Draco chose, leaning away slightly from Luna’s direction as if he knew that this would be rough for him.

“Yay! I dare you to switch pants with the person directly across the circle from you,” Luna said, and everyone looked towards the place opposite Draco. It was Harry.

“What?!” Harry said, turning red. From embarrassment or anger, he couldn’t say, “No, I won’t do it!” He glared at Luna, who only smiled sweetly.

“Do it! Do it! Do it!” the 8th years started chanting, and Harry groaned.

“Fine! Fine, I’ll do it,” Harry agreed reluctantly, looking towards Draco. 

Said blonde was looking away from Harry, his face red as well. The common room cheered, and Harry slowly started unbuttoning his pants. Draco looked at him, his eyes catching on the boxers that were being unveiled. Sluggishly, Draco also began taking off his pants, and they passed their pairs across the circle, avoiding eye contact. As Harry put the silk slacks on, his eyes locked onto Draco, who was pulling Dudley’s baggy shorts on with a look of disgust. Harry, though, quickly looked towards the pale skin and boxers that were quickly being covered by the ugly pants. Harry quietly mourned their loss for only a moment longer before turning to look around the circle. Some were looking at him, some at Draco, and some were glancing between the two. Harry’s eyes locked with Hermione’s, and she gave a wink and a nod in Draco’s direction. Harry glared at her, knowing exactly what she was implying.

“So,” Draco said, clearing his throat, “I wonder who’s next?” He spun the bottle as if wanting to get away from the attention, and it quickly landed on Harry.

“Curse you, fate!” Harry yelled, shaking his hand up at the ceiling. The common room laughed, and Harry sighed in defeat.

“Truth or dare, Scarhead?” Draco asked him, and Harry pondered for a moment. On one hand, the dare would be embarrassing as all hell, but the truth could also be embarrassing. Less so, but it also had the opportunity to be detrimental, if Draco asked the right question. Hm… 

“Truth, Malfoy,” Harry finally decided. He wasn’t a Gryffindor for nothing, was he?

“Right. What happened the last time you played?” Draco asked, and Harry groaned again. He should have known that Draco would ask one of the only questions Harry really didn’t want to answer.

“It was noth- ugh. Right, oath. I, er, ended up telling everyone who I liked,” Harry said, being purposefully vague. The non-Gryffindors all looked suddenly a hell of a lot more interested.

“Who is it, then?” Draco asked, and Harry only smirked in reply. 

“I don’t have to tell you anything more. You only get one question per round,” Harry said cockily, folding his arms across his chest in success.

“Just spin the bottle, oh mighty Chosen One,” Draco said, looking annoyed. Harry did so without complaint, smiling when it landed on Hermione. 

“Oh! Payback,” He said, smirking again, “Truth or dare?” It took Hermione a long time to choose, probably debating the consequences of both.

“Dare,” she said finally, and Harry pretended to ponder, drawing out her suffering. 

“Well, the punishment should fit the crime, so… I dare you to kiss the person here that you’re in a romantic relationship with,” Harry said, and Hermione paled. Everyone thought that she and Ron were together, but that was in fact, not true. 

“That’s cold, Harry,” Ron said, and Harry looked at the redhead.

“And she wasn’t when she asked me that question?” He challenged.

“Well, she didn’t know that it would be-” Ron suddenly cut off, as the oath took affect. 

“Oh? Our Hermione didn’t know who I liked? I would say it was actually pretty obvious,” Harry argued, and Ron shrugged, looking at Hermione for help.

“I knew,” Hermione said, ducking her head, and Ron looked at her in disbelief. 

“Then why would you do that?! He had to tell the whole common room that his crush is-” The oath stopped him again, and this gave Hermione that chance to defend herself.

“Like he would have accepted it if he hadn’t been forced to recognize it! Yes, it was harsh, but now he knows that no one would judge him!” Hermione said forcefully.

“You can stop talking about me like I’m not there, you know. I agree, it worked, but it was the wrong way to go about it. And now you’ll see that, because of this dare,” Harry said, but before the three could argue any more, Blaise Zabini spoke up.

“Well, now I’m really interested to know who it is Harry likes,” he said, leaning forward. Harry glared at both of his friends.

“Just do the dare, Hermione,” he said, and Hermione glared back at him before standing up. She pulled her shoulders back, took a deep breath, and to the surprise of everyone, pulled Pansy Parkinson up by her tie and locked their lips together. They both seemed to melt into each other, and the kiss became more of a full-on snog before they both broke apart, breathless.

“Damn,” Nott said, and that seemed to be the thought on most everyone’s mind. 

“So does that mean you two are lesbians?” Ernie Macmillan asked dumbly.

“No,” Hermione said bitingly, “I’m actually pan, for your information.” She then spun and walked to the bottle, spinning it. She didn’t even watch it, instead walking back to her place in the circle. It landed on Justin Finch-Fletchley. 

“Okay, Justin. Truth or dare?” Hermione asked kindly, easily getting over her earlier anger towards Harry. Justin, in response to the question, blushing madly.

“T-T-Truth,” Justin stuttered out.

“Right. If you had to spend three days in a room alone with someone, who would you choose?” Justin seemed to ponder the question for a long while, and everyone was just starting to fidget in boredom when he finally made up his mind.

“Er, Leanne,” he stuttered out, looking at a short, curvy redhead to his left, who was also blushing. He looked away right after, and quickly spun the bottle. It landed on Harry. Again.

“Are you serious?” Harry asked, and everyone laughed again.

“T-truth or dare?” Justin asked. 

“Truth,” Harry decided, going easy on the poor kid. 

“Um, what’s the worst present you’ve ever gotten and who was it from?” Justin asked nervously, and Harry paled a bit, looking towards Ron and Hermione. They knew what his answer would reveal.

“It has to be those chocolates Romilda Vane gave you, the ones that were laced with Amortentia, right?” Neville guessed, but Harry only shook his head.

“No, that’s not it. It would have to be the sweaty, oversized sock I got from my uncle,” Harry said, and there were yet more shocked looks headed towards him.

“No, that can’t be it. You’re perfect, pampered, Potter!” Draco protested, even though he knew that Harry couldn’t lie.

“You’re right!” Harry exclaimed, and Draco appeared taken aback.

“I am?”

“Yes, I just remembered. It’s actually the one he gave me when I was… oh I must have been four or five at the time, and he gave me a used tissue,” Harry explained, and Draco- along with everyone else- appeared even more surprised.

“Well, I’ll just spin the bottle now,” Harry said after a moment. Immediately he reached for it, but Tracy Davis stopped him. 

“You were abused, Potter?” She asked incredulously. 

“Well, not really. They just didn’t like me much, so I did the chores,” Harry tried to play it off, but Hermione interrupted. 

“Don’t you dare think that, Harry! They starved you!” She argued. 

“They only sometimes withheld a meal or two, nothing that drastic,” Harry downplayed it again. 

“You are malnourished and short and your eyesight is worse than it should be because of their treatment!” Hermione yelled. 

“Just spin the bottle, would you?” Harry asked grumpily. 

“Fine,” Hermione said as she went to the accursed bottle at the center of the circle. As it went around, the excitement mounted, and the tension from earlier was left behind. So when the bottle landed back on Harry, he groaned (again), but his lips couldn’t help but quirk up a bit.

“Oh, goody,” she said, rubbing her hands together.

“Hey, Hermione, I’m sorry! I didn’t mean it!” Harry protested, but Hermione ignored that, instead asking:

“Truth or dare, Harry.”

“Dare,” Harry said nervously. 

“Now, what in the world could I say?” Hermione asked teasingly, and Harry shivered in fear. They had unleashed the beast.

“That I should dance around the room like a chicken?” Harry offered hopefully.

“Nah. The punishment should fit the crime, yes?” Hermione said, echoing his own words back at him.

“Hermione,” Harry groaned in protest.

“I dare you to either chug a whole bottle of firewhiskey, or kiss your crush,” Hermione said, and Harry sagged in relief. She had given him an out. Except… he did not handle his alcohol well.

“Hermione,” Harry whined.

“Well? Which will you choose? Or will you take a group dare?” Hermione asked, folding her arms across her chest.

“You know that I hate drinking,” Harry complained, and watched as everyone in the circle became more interested. The Chosen One couldn’t hold his liquor? 

“If you don’t want that option, then just give them one little kiss,” Hermione said, and Harry groaned again. He seemed to be doing that a lot this game. 

“But you know what’ll happen if I do that!” Harry said.

“What a choice,” Hermione replied unapologetically. 

“Urgh! Fine! But if this ends badly I’m blaming you,” Harry said, and ran upstairs to go grab the bottle of firewhiskey he kept in his room. As soon as he left, the common room exploded in sound once more. Most were trying to get information from Hermione from the sounds of it, but Harry knew she wouldn’t reveal anything about him to them regardless of how bad a row they were having.

He rushed into the dark room, grabbing the bottle from underneath his bed and racing downstairs, determined not to think about what he was about to do. In no time, he was back into the common room, where they were still riled up. 

“Why don’t you want to drink, Potter? Afraid you can’t hold your firewhiskey?” Draco taunted, but Harry just ignored him.

“Well, here goes, Harry said, opening the bottle and bringing it to his lips. Immediately, the 8th years began chanting, “Drink! Drink! Drink!” Harry guzzled the fiery liquid, and it burned its way down his throat. With the last gulp, Harry tore the bottle from his mouth, coughing as the last of the vitriol-like liquid burned its way through his organs. Almost instantly, however, the pain was replaced by a warmth that flooded his veins. 

“Whoo!” Harry cheered, shaking his head to get rid of the last of the firewhiskey burn. He went back to his seat, plopping down on the floor with a hard “thunk.”

“Harry,” Hermione chided lightly, “You have to spin the bottle.” 

“Fine,” Harry said. He crawled forwards, almost knocking his butt into Ron’s face as he went, eliciting a protesting groan from the redhead. Harry spun the bottle, and was back in his seat and watching the brown glass by the time it began to slow down. 

“Not me not me not me not me,” Seamus chanted as it got closer and closer to him, “Damn it!” The bottle stopped pointing towards him, and Dean fell back while laughing at Seamus’ reaction.

“Come on, mate! This isn’t funny; I have to be truthed or dared by a drunk Harry Potter! He’s mean!” Seamus complained.

“I’m just glad it isn’t me,” Neville said over the sounds of a still cackling Dean. What he found so funny about it, Harry couldn’t tell, but he began smiling just watching his roommate.

“Why is it bad?” Draco, ever curious, asked.

“His Slytherin side comes out, mate,” Seamus said, looking terrified.

“So truth or dare, Finnigan?” Harry asked.

“Truth,” he answered reluctantly.

“Alright. What happened in the Room of Requirement in October of fifth year? The time you weren’t in a D.A. meeting, that is,” Harry asked, and Seamus paled more than Harry thought possible.

“W-well,” Seamus began reluctantly. His eyes were shooting around the room as if looking for a way out, while most of the rest of the room looked interested. 

“Harry,” Seamus whined, “please ask me something else?” 

“Do you want a group truth, then?” Harry offered, and Seamus shook his head abruptly.

“You know what happens then,” Seamus said.

“No I don’t. What happens when the group gives you something?” It was Nott who asked the question. For some reason, he too looked terrified.

“Well, when the group gives you a truth or dare, it is more brutal than anything one person could come up with on their own,” Hermione explained.

“Oh,” Nott said mildly, sitting back as if in defeat.

“I’ll get you back for this, one. I swear it,” Seamus warned Harry.

“Yeah, yeah,” Harry waved the threat off, “Just answer the question.”

“Fine. Uh, me and a few other students who shall remain nameless had a, er,” here his face turned bright red, but he continued nonetheless, “an orgy.” When Seamus finally spit out the last word, there was only silence. No one had expected that answer. Seamus, seeing all of those people staring at him, hid his face in Dean’s arms. 

“That- you- what?” Davis asked, and Seamus pulled his head up to look at Tracy for a split second before he ducked and jumped for the bottle. Quickly he spun it, probably in an effort to redirect everyone’s attention. Sadly it didn’t work, as Seamus’s bottle spin landed back on himself. 

“What does that mean?” Bulstrode asked, as Seamus perked up instantly.

“It means, my friend, that I get to truth or dare a person of my choosing,” Finnegan said, and turned to Harry with a maniacal grin on his face. There was a heavy pause, before he asked Harry, “Truth or dare, Potter?”

“Er, dare?” Harry answered, but it sounded more like a question than a statement.

“Goody goody gum drops,” Seamus said, rubbing his hands together as his muggle parentage became apparent.

“I dare you, Harry Potter, to kiss your crush. On the lips. With tongue,” Seamus grinned ferally, and Harry paled. 

“Really, man? You know h-they’ll hate me,” Harry pleaded, barely catching himself from slipping up.

“You show no mercy, I show no mercy,” Seamus said with a blase wave of his hand.

“Ugh, fine. Fine. I’ll do it. But we are no longer friends, Finnegan,” Harry pointed a warning finger at the boy, before turning back to the group. Back to the person he was about to kiss.

Damn it, Harry thought, Breathe in, breathe out. You can do this. It won’t be as bad as Seamus’ truth. You’re fine. You’ll be fine. Just kiss hm. Harry gave one last deep breath in and out, before striding across the circle. He pulled Draco Malfoy up by his tie, just like Tracy with Millicent, Harry kissed him. Draco Lucius Malfoy. On the lips. In front of the whole common room. 

They both froze for a moment or two, the world seeming to quiet around them. But then it all came back in a rush, and there was so much sound, and movement, and fireworks. Draco collapsed into Harry’s chest, and he could feel Draco’s heat through the layers of clothing. Harry reached up to lace his fingers in Draco’s hair, and caught a whiff of lemons, like they had just been picked from a tree. And then Draco opened his mouth, and Harry opened his too. Their tongues began moving, dancing, and exploring each other’s mouths. Harry was immersed in the taste of mint and Draco, with what seemed like too much and yet no space between them. Harry never wanted it to end.

But like all good things, it did. Because humans did, in fact, need air to live. So they burst apart(but didn’t stray too far), gasping for breath. Then came the jeering and wolf whistles. 

“I did not see that one coming,” Ernie MacMillan said. 

“We did,” Ron, Seamus and Dean all replied simultaneously, and more laughter ensued. Harry’s face felt hot, and he knew that it probably looked just as red as Draco’s. 

“Er, yeah. I’m uh, I’ll just go sit down now,” Harry said, rushing back to his place in the circle. Draco, too plopped down, and everyone kept laughing and talking and gossiping until Harry spun the bottle, where it landed on Draco. 

“Again?” Harry groaned, “I swear this game is rigged.” 

“Nah, it’s just the famous Potter luck, mate,” Ron snickered. 

“So, Harry, will you dare him to kiss you? Or something better?” It was Tracy this time. Before Harry could respond, Luna piped up. 

“The peacock is quite the choice, Harry. What will the prophet say?” She smiled, but Harry recognized the hidden threat in her words. Luna was one sneaky motherfucker. 

“Argh! You know what? I’m going to go. When you all grow up a bit, come talk to me. In the meantime, I’m hungry and need food. See ya,” with a smile and a quirky wave of his hands, Harry left the common room. It was dark outside, and Harry wa a blind for a while as his eyes got used to the lack of light. 

Not long into the freckles from the new, Southeast Tower, however, Harry heard someone running towards him, back in the direction of the common room. He turned around, and was surprised to see the blonde hair of Draco Malfoy. 

“Draco? What are you doing here?” Harry questioned him when the Malfoy scion got close enough. 

“They,” Draco answered between gasps for breath, “became… unbearable… after you… left. So I did too.”

“Ahh,” Harry said, and they both began walking. It was only after at least a minute of awkward silence that Harry spoke up again. 

“That was- ah- some kiss, ay?” Harry said, looking to the floor directly in front of him, but he still felt it when Draco jumped in surprise. 

“Er, yeah,” Draco replied lamely, and they lapsed into quiet once more. 

“H-how long have you liked me?” He questioned eventually, and Harry turned red again. 

“Sthfr,” he mumbled. 

“Sorry?” Draco asked, turning his head towards Harry. The chosen one just looked away. 

“Sixth year,” Harry coughed out. When no response came, he glanced up at the blonde to find him gaping at Harry. He ducked his head in embarrassment, saying, “that was when I realized you were a person, just like the rest of us.”

Draco made a sort of squawking noise like an offended bird, and Harry rushed to explain, “its not that I didn’t know you were human. I just, you were always that Malfoy brat in my mind until the bathroom. But then there was the war, and it was all horrible and so I didn’t-“ Draco cut him off. 

“How could you want a monster like me?” Malfoy said, his tone sounding utterly defeated. 

“What? No! It wasn’t your fault! You were pushed into that life by everyone around you! Yes, you made some mistakes, but-“ once more, Draco cut Harry off mid rant with a high-pitched, 

“Mistakes? My mistakes got people killed! I’m a murderer! I don’t deserve-“ 

“That’s not true!” Harry protested, but Draco continued as if he had not spoken. 

“To have a second chance! I shouldn’t even be-“ but Harry silenced him with a kiss. This one was hot and wet and angry, as if they were taking out all their frustrations on each other. 

“That’s not true,” Harry said softly after they parted from where Harry had shoved the blonde up against a wall, “everyone deserves a second chance, including you. And you aren’t the person you were in 1st year. You aren’t a pompous, spoiled git. You faced war, and death, and tragedy. But you chose the right side, in the end. You fought on our side in the final battle. That’s why the Ministry let you go with only a minor fine. They saw what I see. That you deserve forgiveness,” Harry ended, panting. Draco was looking at him in awe, like he had not really seen the raven haired man before that moment. 

“I-“ he stopped himself, and instead leaned forwards, and they were snogging again. This one was slower, but not softer; expressing all their affection, appreciation, and forgiveness. When they separated again, they were both panting, and this time it was Harry up against the wall. 

“Let’s go to the kitchens? I’m hungry,” Harry finally said, and Draco nodded. 

“Thank you,” he whispered as they walked, and Harry glanced at him with a small smile. The blonde was glowing, and there was a content smile plastered to his face. 

———One Hour Later———

“And then, right there, in the middle of the common room, Ron hiccups and goes, “well that was unexpected,” and subsequently passes out,” Harry regaled, his hands waving about in ever larger movements. Draco, who had already been laughing, starts cracking up so much that he starts crying. Harry’s right there with him, and soon they’re both rolling on the floor holding their stomachs. 

Their table in the kitchen is a mess, with plates and food everywhere, and bubbles still spilling out of one of the goblets from a spell gone awry. 

“Haha, ha,” Harry gasped, finally gaining back some of his breath back, but then he looked over at Draco, their eyes connected, and they were back to laughing so hard that their stomachs cramped up and sound stopped coming out of their mouths. When they finally gained their sensibilities back, the two climbed back onto their chairs. 

“Whew, that was great,” Draco said, and Harry nodded. For the first time since they entered the conversation, they both quieted, having nothing else to say. It was peaceful, and not awkward, like they had all the time in the world, with no rush to speak or move. There was just Harry and Draco, and that was okay. 

“I had a great time with you tonight, Harry,” Draco said eventually. 

“Uh oh, that’s not a good thing to hear,” Harry replied, only somewhat joking. 

“It’s not a bad thing,” Draco defended, but his next words did little to sooth Harry, “I hope.”

“What is it?” Harry said seriously (Siriusly). 

“W-will you go to Hogsmeade with me next weekend?” Draco finally asked, and Harry breathed out a sigh of relief. 

“Yes! I’d love you to with you, Draco,” Harry said, leaning over the table to press a short kiss to his lips. When they parted, there were twin grins on both the Savior and the Ex-Death Eater’s faces. 

It had been a good night after all.


End file.
